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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24227632">Superstitious Inklings</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accidental_Ducky/pseuds/Accidental_Ducky'>Accidental_Ducky</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Haunting of Hill House (TV 2018), The Invisible Man (2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>BAMF Cecilia Kass, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Happy Ending, Past Abuse, Past Drug Addiction, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, She's Luke's new hero</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 18:22:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,735</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24227632</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accidental_Ducky/pseuds/Accidental_Ducky</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hey, Fortunato," Theo greets, voice tight. "Welcome back to the land of the living." Luke groans and rolls his eyes as best he can. Somehow he doubts she'll ever let this go.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Luke Crain &amp; Cecilia Kass, Past Cecilia Kass/Adrian Griffin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Superstitious Inklings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It's dark out when Luke's phone rings, the sound reverberating in his dream. He doesn't know what it is at first, not while he's a little boy again and running down a path lined with oleander trees. The ringing seems to come from a bird flying overhead, but then it seems to click that the noise doesn't belong and the dream shatters into a thousand pieces.</p><p>He sits up and glances at his nightstand, catching his phone right as it starts to vibrate itself to the floor. He doesn't answer right away, noting the time and wondering if this is how he would always feel when he woke up in the wee hours of the morning. Do his siblings feel a cold sweat break out and goosebumps spread? Does their stomach curdle until they just want to curl up in a ball and die?</p><p>"Hello?" His voice is a toneless rasp, nearly swallowed by the AC he has precariously balanced in his window. There's no response at first and he's ready to put this down as a wrong number, but then he checks the ID and the stomach cramps worsen. "Cee?"</p><p>"He's dead, Luke," she says, and her voice neatly matches his own. He'd met Cecilia a few years ago at a meeting, something for trauma that Theo had recommended lest Luke go back to heroin for comfort. "Adrian is dead."</p><p>"How?"</p><p>"Suicide." Shock. That's why her voice is all toneless and flat, she's in shock. He'd sounded much the same when he woke up in the hospital, hooked up to a dozen machines and a monitor that betrayed the staccato beat of his heart. "His, uh…. His brother wants to meet with me tomorrow to discuss the estate."</p><p>"How do you feel about that?"</p><p>"I don't know."</p><p>"Do you want to come over? My apartment doesn't have a couch yet, but I've got a good coffee maker." Cecilia's laugh is sharp, a sound like a wounded animal clinging to any sort of hope. "Or I could come to your place if you don't feel up to a drive."</p><p>"I'll call a Lyft. You remember how I like my coffee?"</p><p>"Black."</p><p>"That's right." She shows up twenty minutes later, still in her pajamas with her hair done up in a messy braid and a coffee cup in an unsteady hand. She'd shied away from him the first time he'd offered her a cup of coffee, had jerked back as though he'd threatened to dump it over her head. Two weeks later, at another meeting, she'd revealed to him that he was the spitting image of her husband. Now here she is, a tenuous trust established as long as coffee is involved.</p><p>"You have good timing," he says, opening the door wider and stepping aside so she can come in. He lets her close the door herself, shaky fingers turning the lock to make sure they're really safe here. He leads the way into the kitchen and pours two cups, pouring a generous amount of creamer in his own.</p><p>"Were you sleeping?"</p><p>"Not deeply," he lies. Little lies, he's found, are easier to manage around fragile people. The truth has a way of breaking them down until they're nothing but raw nerves. Steve had always seemed so strong until that night in the Red Room when he saw the truth and nearly went out of his mind. "Did you just hear about you-know-who?"</p><p>"I got a letter this afternoon, but it didn't really hit me until a few minutes ago." She takes her cup back and drops to the rug, her back against the wall and the front door within sight. Luke sits much the same way, always itching to see the exits in case unwanted things creep in. "What were you dreaming about?"</p><p>"Oleander trees and open skies." She nods, taking a sip of her coffee and letting it sit on her tongue for a moment before swallowing. "It's the first dream I've had that didn't make my arm hurt." Usually his dreams revolve around red walls, a broken tea set, and the bitter taste of poison at the back of his throat.</p><p>"I had a dream that I was standing at the edge of a cliff," Cecilia says, voice breathy and eyes drawn to the middle distance. "The waves were breaking against the rocks at the bottom and Adrian was standing out there, soaked to the bone and calling for me to help him."</p><p>"How'd it end?"</p><p>"I don't know, I woke up and called you." She takes another drink, lets it sit, swallows. It's an odd habit that he's noticed, but he never says anything about it. Adrian used to make her avoid coffee when she lived with him, he didn't like the smell of it on her breath.</p><p>Luke takes a drink of his own coffee, swishing it once and then swallowing. He prefers chocolate milk, but that won't keep him alert enough to listen. Cecilia's fingers are wrapped tightly around her mug, knuckles white from the strain. He doesn't say anything, knows Cecilia will talk when she's ready.</p><p>"What do you think might have happened if I hadn't woken up?" It's a two-sided question, a quarter with tarnished edges that don't shine properly in the light. "Do you think I would have been stuck there forever?"</p><p>"I think you're too stubborn to let something like that happen," he says earnestly. Her smile is vague at the edges, not really there. "Do you want something to eat? I've found food is much healthier than drugs these days." She snorts a laugh and her smile gains some color.</p><p>"Do you have anything sweet?"</p><p>"That's pretty much all I have right now. I haven't gone to the grocery store in awhile." He gets to his feet again and walks into his kitchen, digging around until he's got an armful of junk food to share. He falls back down beside her again, dropping the snacks down between them. "What's your poison, ma'am?"</p><p>"Hmm, I think I'll take the Swiss Roll." He plucks it out of the pile and opens it for her, holding it out balanced on his palm like a serving tray. "Well, what a gentleman."</p><p>"I have been praised for my politeness from time to time, but I don't like to brag." He brushes off one shoulder of his shirt like it's a tux and not the same ratty Star Wars tee he's had for five years. Cecilia laughs again and it's so goofy that he joins in, both of them rolling with their shoulders against the wall. Even with the good-natured mood that sweeps over them, the front door is still in view.</p><p>"Thanks for letting me come here. I know twelve o'clock isn't a great hour for conversation." His smile fades at the edges, a faint twinge in his neck making itself known. The last time he woke up at midnight, his twin had just been murdered by their own mother.</p><p>"It's no problem," he says, and neither of them mention that the rasp is back.</p><p> </p><p>Adrian Griffin has been dead for a week and a half when Cecilia calls him in a blind panic, rambling about invisibility and paint. He shows up at James' house twenty minutes later with a speeding ticket in his pocket and a baseball bat in his hand.</p><p>"Where is he," he demands, looking around.</p><p>"I don't know," Cecilia says, one hand still gripping the doorknob. He thinks back to brass doorknobs in the shape of a lion's head, mane full and mouth sensibly shut. "He was here! I swear I'm not crazy."</p><p>"Never thought you were, Cee." They stay near the front door until they hear a faint creak deeper in the house, Luke starting forward despite the way Cecilia scrambles to latch onto his robe.</p><p>"No, he's going to get you!" <em>They're coming to get you, Barbara</em>. He shakes his head, not entirely sure why the thought had popped into his head. "And <em>don't</em> tell me to wait here."</p><p>"Wouldn't dream of it." His grin is a tired thing, worn down but comforting. They move as one through the house, carefully side-stepping coffee grounds and paint splatter until they make it to a ladder propped up against the wall. Above them is a closed attic hatch and Cecilia's hands tighten in his robe.</p><p>"I didn't close the hatch or move the ladder," she whispers. Luke nods and they move on, following the faint sounds of footsteps towards a bedroom. The room is perfectly tidy, a couple of tarps neatly folded and laying on a desk near a picture of a happy family. "Where are you? We know you're here, you bastard!"</p><p>"He might be farther down the hall—" Luke is knocked backwards, tripping over Cecilia's feet and slamming shoulder-first against the wall. He tries to stand again, to at least get his bearings, but then a hard fist is driven into his gut, all the air in his lungs coming out in a choked gasp.</p><p>"Stop it! Leave him alone!" Luke topples to the floor, watching through blurred vision as Cecilia comes down next to him, invisible fingers twisted up in her shirt and keeping her pinned. She's got one arm up to defend her face, but the other hand is scrabbling wildly over the floor until they find the bat Luke had dropped. Her swing isn't nearly enough to do much damage, but it still makes a decent <em>crack</em> as it collides with a skull, her attacker releasing her shirt. There's the sound of retreating feet, the dull ache as something hard collides with Luke's calf, and then the front door being thrown open.</p><p>They're quiet for a long while, just looking up at the ceiling like it holds all the answers in the world. Eventually Luke glances over at Cecilia, taking in the wild gleam of her eyes and the baseball bat still in her hand. He gathers all his strength and speaks.</p><p>"No offense, Cee, but your ex-husband is a dick." She laughs, long and deep with an edge of hysteria to it. His ribs are too tender to copy her, so he settles on a manic smile. When Cecilia's laughter trails off, a seriousness steals over her face so fast that Luke has to blink a couple of times to make sense of it.</p><p>"How do you feel about going on a little road trip?"</p><p> </p><p>3333 Celestial Drive is the type of house Olivia Crain would have loved to get her hands on, trading in dark panels of wall with something warmer, adding just enough personal touches so that it truly felt like a home. Is this how she imagined the forever house when she closed her eyes? He'd seen the replica in Shirley's office, but it hadn't felt quite right, not like <em>home</em>.</p><p>"I don't know how long I'll be," Cecilia says, staring up at the house through the dirty windshield of Luke's truck. She glances over at him, fingers shaking where they grip the door handle. <em>The door handle of Dad's truck was cold when I got out to try and save Abigail</em>, he remembers.</p><p>"Take your time," he says, pushing down the childhood trauma to deal with at a better time. "Got your cell?" She nods and pats her pants pocket. "Good, call if you need me to play distraction again. God only knows you're the fighter between the two of us."</p><p>"I don't know, you did pretty good back in James' house." Luke snorts and immediately regrets the action when his ribs throb. "Keep an eye out. Adrian might not wear the suit here." Luke nods, tightening his hands around the steering wheel until the cracked leather creaks in protest. Cecilia takes the bat with her into the house, fingers tight around it and shoulders squared.</p><p>If Adrian tries to attack her in that house, then he's a braver man than Luke. With the red of sunset painting the horizon, Cecilia's outlined in fire like a goddess coming into her own. Luke has no doubts that Cecilia's going to <em>win</em>.</p><p>He keeps an eye on the property, drumming the fingers of his right hand against his thigh as he strains to see any sign of Adrian's presence. Could he sense the man? Can he extend his little ability to include someone outside of his family? He's sure he could if he tried.</p><p>"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven," he chants, drumming away in a familiar pattern. He pictures toy soldiers made of green plastic, colorful buttons shining in lamplight, a pair of bare feet slapping against a crumbling sidewalk. He <em>doesn't</em> think of headlights replacing eyes or a bowler hat set off by a bright red dressing gown.</p><p>It's sometime between the hundredth recount and discovering a rip in his jeans that Cecilia comes sprinting out of the house, not looking back until she flings herself into the truck. Luke doesn't wait for a command, he throws the truck in reverse and backs up until his wheels hit asphalt.</p><p>"What happened?"</p><p>"Adrian came in through the back," she gasps, leaning back in her seat. Cecilia looks over at him, her grin contagious this time around. "He wasn't expecting me to still have your bat." She hefts it up enough for Luke to see the splintered wood, a circular pattern with spiderweb cracks surrounding it. "I also found out how he's invisible."</p><p>"Seriously?"</p><p>"It's a suit, Luke. It's got these cameras all over it that mimic its surroundings." She's breathing hard still, but he thinks this might be from excitation. "I can prove he's been terrorizing me now." Luke grins in response, keeping his eyes carefully on the road. It's still empty at this time of night, this neighborhood largely made up of rich people.</p><p>"Cee, you're my hero."</p><p> </p><p>"... In other news, Cecilia Kass, wife of the late Adrian Griffin, has been arrested tonight and taken to a secure treatment center for observation after murdering her sister." Luke's head snaps up, his tacos forgotten as he focuses on the news footage.</p><p>The camera zooms in on a restaurant behind the reporter, catching dozens of people pouring out onto the sidewalk as they're released by a group of police gathered near the door. The bubblegum lights of police cruisers distort peoples' faces, shadows gathering in every dip and plane until all their features are sharp.</p><p>"Witnesses say that Miss Kass had been arguing with her sister before cutting Emily's throat with a knife that had been laid out on their table. Miss Kass appeared hysterical when police secured her."</p><p>"Thank you for that, Kim," says a news anchor. He's staring gravely into the camera, hands clasped together on the desk he's sitting behind. "We'll be sure to come back to this as the story unfolds. In other news, a young boy was recently found—" Luke turns the TV off and drops his taco onto the wrapper, the paper crinkling.</p><p>"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…."</p><p> </p><p>Luke wakes up with his head pounding, temple throbbing with each beat of his heart until Luke feels like he'll go mad if it keeps going. His first thought is to swear off drinking until he remembers that he doesn't even <em>have</em> alcohol in his apartment. What the fuck is wrong with his head?</p><p>Opening his eyes takes some real effort, vision blurred by tears until he blinks them away. He's in a small space, knees bunched against his chest and wrists restrained by zip ties; there's a weird aftertaste on his tongue, coppery yet sweet. He lolls his head to the side and finds himself looking back at him. Luke blinks again and again until he's certain the other man isn't going anywhere, that he's really there. The man is tall and broad with a healthy tan, wearing a gray tee and a pair of dark boxers that have bunched up around his thighs. He's in much the same shape as Luke, dirty and sweaty and stinking of disinfectant.</p><p>"Who the hell are you," Luke rasps. The mirror image squints over at him, but the disbelief in his face doesn't reach his eyes. Those eyes are hard even in the darkness, the eyes of a predator doing its very best to corner a helpless gazelle. "Adrian Griffin." Luke drops his head back, cursing every god in existence.</p><p>"Surprise," Adrian says, his croak a little too forced to be natural. Luke tries to move, tries to hurt this man who's taken pleasure in tormenting Cecilia, but there's a pipe against his back that keeps him pinned in place against the wall in front of him.</p><p>"When Cee gets here, I'm gonna hold you down while she bashes your head in," Luke snarls. Adrian shifts, the sound of bare skin on concrete making Luke think of a basement with a tall man hidden in its walls. Is that what's going to happen to Luke? Is he going to be stuck in here even after he's dead and gone? Will his spirit roam this space until it goes insane?</p><p>"Cecilia would never hurt me."</p><p>"Tell that to the blood soaking the front of your tee shirt." Adrian glances down, frowning when he sees the faint red spots soaking the fabric. The façade of a victim falls to the wayside as the real monster comes out to play, peeking out from behind a carefully constructed mask.</p><p>"I suppose I should have used more gauze." He says it so matter-of-factly that Luke doesn't know how to respond at first. "She stole one of Tom's pens, the fancy kind with the fountain tips. Hurt like a bitch."</p><p>"Wait till she gets her hands on you again, Griffin. She's going to fuck you up." Adrian grunts as he gets to his knees, pressing a rag over Luke's face. Luke fights of course, but it's not long before his vision grows hazy and then blacks out altogether.</p><p>The next time Luke wakes up, he's in a hospital room with his sisters and Cecilia standing next to the bed. Theo's the first to notice that he's awake, cupping his face and only wincing a little when his emotions shoot into her. She doesn't wear gloves anymore, that had been the twelfth step for her as she worked through her grief and trauma.</p><p>"Hey, Fortunato," she greets, voice tight. "Welcome back to the land of the living." Luke groans and rolls his eyes as best he can. Somehow he doubts she'll ever let this go.</p><p>"How're you feeling," Shirley asks, crowding in close so she can cup Luke's other cheek. Their hands are warm and soft, thumbs tracing his jaw just like their mom used to on nights he couldn't get to sleep. "Do you need anything?"</p><p>"Yeah," he says. "Some food would be great. I'm starving." Shirley nods and rushes out of the hospital room, leaving the door open in her haste. Theo sighs and mutters something about Shirley being directionally challenged before taking off after her. A few minutes later, Luke can see his sisters heading to the left. "What happened?"</p><p>"Adrian Griffin happened," Cecilia says bluntly. She drops into the chair that's been drawn up beside the bed, clutching his hand in hers. The door is still in view for both of them, a needed precaution that's been ingrained into their bones. "The doctor says you were drugged, chloroform, and then tied up and thrown in Adrian's basement. Someone put up a temporary wall to keep the pair of you from being found too easily."</p><p>"Uh-huh, and the real explanation?"</p><p>"Adrian drugged your ass, had his brother wall the two of you up, and then told Tom to go hurt Sydney. I showed up after Tom kicked James' ass and had time to shoot him before he could do anything to Syd." Luke nods, gazing at his friend. Even in crappy hospital lighting, there's a fiery gleam in her eyes that speaks of vengeance.</p><p>"Is Tom still alive?"</p><p>"No, he's downstairs in the morgue."</p><p>"And Adrian?"</p><p>"He's down the hall." She pauses for a long moment, then she smiles over at Luke. "They had to stitch up his chest. Apparently Tom stabbed him with one of his pens." Luke snorts out a laugh, ignoring the faint twinge in his ribs.</p><p>"I was meaning to congratulate you for that."</p><p>"No need, just performing a civic duty. One less Adrian Griffin in the world is for the better."</p><p>"Amen to that."</p><p> </p><p>"In a tragic turn of events, Adrian Griffin committed suicide yesterday evening. He was having dinner with his ex-wife and a family friend when he suddenly cut his own throat at the table. As you may remember, his ex-wife has been cleared of all charges and stands to inherit Griffin's estate. The family friend, Luke Crain, was heard to say that Griffin had been suffering through depression after the death of his younger brother—"</p><p>Cecilia turns off the TV just in time for Luke to come into the living room, hair damp from his shower. He's got a towel draped over his shoulders and he's holding the ends of it. There are scars circling his wrists, reminders of the time spent in Adrian's basement when the zip ties had been a little too tight and Luke had struggled a little too hard. Those scars will always be there to remind them of what they've gone through.</p><p>"Anything good on," he asks, dropping onto the couch beside her.</p><p>"Nothing important," she answers. She's relaxed, dressed in sweats and her Cal Poly sweatshirt with a pair of fuzzy socks to keep her feet warm. Luke stretches his legs out in front of him, looking like a content housecat as he picks a book up off the end table. "Read to me?"</p><p>"Sure." He opens the book and begins to read, his voice a soothing balm to all her worries. As long as Luke is reading, then he's still alive. As long as she can listen to his voice, her heart is still beating. Truth be told, becoming roommates with him is probably the best decision she's made this past year. <em>"I have always had more dread of a pen, a bottle of ink, and a sheet of paper, than of a sword or pistol."</em></p><p>For the first time in years, Cecilia and Luke sit with their backs to the exit.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The book Luke's reading at the end is The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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